


Needs

by The_Readers_Muse



Category: Walking Dead, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Down and Dirty, F/M, Smut, USS Caryl's 1st Kinky/Non-Kinky Drabble Challenge, drabble challenge, only kinda not a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Readers_Muse/pseuds/The_Readers_Muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The skin under his lips trembled, quivering as she shifted under him. He took the opportunity to dig deeper, letting his free hand roam across her back, rubbing circles around the knotted muscle he found there – easing the soreness as he went.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead, wishful thinking aside.
> 
> Authors Note #1: This is a response fill for the USS Caryl's 1st Kinky/Non-Kinky Drabble Challenge on tumblr regarding the following prompt: "Daryl sees Carol is stressed, and catches her alone. He helps her get off - quick and dirty."
> 
> Warnings: Contains spoilers for all four seasons of the Walking Dead, sexual content, smut, strong language, and possible consent issues. Set during the fourth season, so watch or for spoilers, sometime in between the second, third, and forth episodes.

She'd been fuming all day – a whirling ball of tangled nerves, rough-shot adrenaline and aching muscle. There had been no smiles today, no heady laughter or well-meant teasing. No companionable silences where they could exist in each other's company and just, well,  _be._

This new disease, flu, or whatever the hell it was had  _everyone_  spooked. Every cough, every sniffle and tickle in the throat had suddenly taken on a new meaning – everything was significant, deadly – everything was something to be feared.

She'd been stretched to her limit two days ago, but there was no one else to pick up the slack. Everyone was either too sick, too scared, too busy, or too young. He'd been having a hell of a time just keeping everyone  _fed_. And if you asked him, considering what he'd seen in just the past three hours since he'd made it back to the prison carrying a skinny, three year old doe on his shoulders, he figured he'd gotten off easy. He couldn't imagine having to blow noses, ferry supplies, and help coddle people 'in shit.

He was gettin' dizzy just  _lookin'_  at her.

She needed to relax. She needed-

_He knew what she needed._

He waited for his moment, gauging and watching as she flittered back and forth between cell blocks, trying her best to be three places at once as people chirped out – cryin' for her attention like chicks in a nest.

He finally cornered her in the back of the supply room, locking the door behind him as she jumped at the sound, a bag of crackers – plain saltines to quell someone's upset stomach – flew from her hands as she whirled in place. One hand fell automatically to her belt knife before he loomed out of the shadows. Her sigh of relief was audible.

_Good girl._

"Ever heard of a coffee break?" he grunted, stalking across the room with a slow, loping gait. " _Christ_  woman, you're letting' them run 'ya ragged."

He'd backed her up against the wall without even thinking about it. He was already too far gone to take it slow – too  _committed_. He braced his hand up against the wall at her back, tugging playfully on one of her silver-grey spikes before burying his head into her nape, scenting along the length of her as he breathed her in.

_She smelled like the rain. Like familiar things._

The skin under his lips trembled, quivering as she shifted underneath him. He took the opportunity to dig deeper, letting his free hand roam across her back, rubbing circles around the knotted muscle he found there – easing the soreness as he went.

"What's gotten into you?" she asked with a tired laugh, hips rising up to meet his on pure reflex as her hands came up, wrappin' around his neck in one of those loose embraces she'd gifted him with months ago. A moment when a hug had somehow tipped over the line and had them kissin' – awkward and sloppy, against the side of the prison, oblivious to the fact that anyone and their maiden aunt could'a seen 'em. He'd been rusty, she'd been hesitant, more worried about him than clacking teeth and wayward tongues, but somehow it had been perfect anyway.

_Their kind of perfect at least._

He didn't answer, instead he let his fingers do the talking as he inched up the hem of her shirt; his callouses rasping across her freckle-flecked skin in a way that had them  _both_  shivering.

"I have to-" she began, seeming to remember why she was here for first time since he'd backed her clear into the wall, the bag of crackers left abandoned on the floor somewhere behind them. But he couldn't have cared less.

"It can wait," he growled, the words nearly a god damned purr as he trapped her in his grip, hands on her hips as he pulled her into him, bringing her in for a lingering kiss.  _God, she smelled so-_

What was that old saying? Deep down we were all just animals?

He pulled away when she tried to deepen it, making an irritated sound in the back of her throat when he took half a step back. He wasn't here for _that_. Not now. He had a better use for his tongue at the moment thank you  _very_  fuckin' much.

But any noise of dissent she was planning to make died when his fingers started working on her belt, tossing it off to the side as she tugged urgently on his fringe.

"Daryl… _Daryl!_ Not here, we can't-"

There was no gentleness, no finesse, when he yanked her pants down to her ankles. Usually he liked to take his time when he had her like this, drawing it out until she was squirming across the sheets and he was leaking pre-cum up against the mattress, unable to stop himself from pressing up against the edge – desperate for friction.

But gentle wasn't what she wanted. Not right now.

She wanted it hard and uncompromising. She wanted the burn of his stubble and his face snug and choking against her lower lips. She wanted him licking, sucking,  _biting_  until he'd all but  _ripped_  her pleasure from her.

She didn't want it slow, she didn't want to be coaxed.  _No_ , she wanted it down and dirty, making her quake with the sheer roughness of it as he shoved a couple fingers up in there just to hear her moan at the intrusion, flicking at her clit with his tongue until he could actually  _feel_ it as she started to fall apart around him.

He wasn't good at a lot of things, at talking, or at feelings and shit. But he was good at this, at  _her._ He'd taken the time to learn her, from top to bottom, he knew every freckle, every dip, arch and scar. He knew her body better than anyone - maybe even better than she knew herself.

And he planned to use it all to his advantage now.

_He was gonna make her scream._


	2. Chapter 2

She tried to inch forward; whether to get closer or to push him away, he didn't know. Either way, it didn't matter. He held her back, keeping her pinned against the wall like a butterfly tangled in a spider web - flighty and uncertain.

_She needed this. He needed this._

"Relax," he grunted, thumbs tangling with the delicate edges of her underthings, tracing the freckles that dotted across her hipbones as he murmured into her skin. "I gotcha…"

And for all her protestations, he could already smell her. Heady and musky, just like always. Only this time it was better, her coal-grey panties were already soaked in the front, a testament to her need as she rubbed her thighs together, embarrassed and aroused as he chuckled.

His dick throbbed, pressing up against his zipper as he darted in, licking and sucking through the wet spot as her fingers dug deep into his hair.  _She was a fuckin' vixen. And worse? She knew it._

"Daryl…" It was breathy this time, needy. He grinned against her snatch, nibbling and rubbing his face against the fabric, thin and slick as she pressed herself against him.

_God, he could hardly wait._

He tugged the panties down incrementally, enjoying her frustration as her eyes, blown dark and gleaming in the half light, slitted with pleasure. Her fingers tightened in his hair, telling him to hurry up, to get on with it -  _god damn it_ , and a hundred different shades of the exact same emotion as he tongued his way up her slit. He let the panties flutter to the ground, forgotten, as she made a sound, pitching and high in the back of her throat.

_His girl._

She jumped when his tongue found her clit, her hands almost painful as they dug into his scalp. But his erection didn't flag – pretty much the opposite really.  _So sue him, he was twisted like that, alright?_  He liked it when she lost control, when she made it  _hurt_.

Her pulse was racing under his tongue,  _throbbing,_ as he bathed the sensitive nub with a series of unrepentant little licks - lulling her into a slow, soothing rhythm that quickly had her hips rolling, panting now as she tried to grind herself deeper. He smirked. He could almost  _taste_ her frustration.

He gripped her by the hips, taking it as his due to keep her upright as he sucked a bruise into the inside of her thigh, shushing her whenever she tried to speak, to tell him that it wasn't enough, that she  _needed_ more. He growled into the curve of her hip, palming himself through his jeans as he mashed his jaw into the jut of her slit, tongue tracing around and around her nub, savouring the taste as a gush of fluid spread across his tongue - bringing her closer to the edge.

Her hand settled on top of his head, petting through his hair as he hummed against her, teasing her with the vibrations as the action elicited a breathy little whine.

"Daryl…I-"

But whatever it was she'd been planning on saying, they both lost track of it; they were too keyed up now, too invested. He loved her like this, so open and vocal, all raking nails and grabby hands. There was just something special about knowing  _you_ were the reason she was falling apart,  _you_ and no one else that was making her feel this way.

He spread her lips, wanting to get a better look at her. Her skin was flushed red, stinging with stubble burn, clit swollen and slick between her folds. She was a fuckin' mess, wild and his as her chest rose and fell above him. Her nipples, jutting and proud, had been pulled free of the bra that was now sitting crooked on her chest, barely there underneath the thin material of her shirt.

He rolled her clit with his thumb, keeping her with him as he licked a stripe down her center, once, twice, then  _again_. He grinned into her skin as she mewled, thrusting into his face as he slid a finger in alongside his tongue, crooking it just so as she practically  _screeched_ – her eyes tightly closed, face pleasure-wrecked as she neared her peak.

His movements took on a new urgency, sensing how close she was as her pulse started to sing, hips jerking under his hands, face slick with her juices as he laid into her, slurping and mashing his thumb against her nub until all he could feel, all he could see, hear, taste and smell was  _her._

_Carol…_

It was only when she stiffened, pulse flat-lining for a split second before every muscle in her body pulled tense, catapulting her off into subspace as her orgasm swept over the both of them, that he realized what else she smelled like.

_Home._


End file.
